


Interludes

by shinigami_yumi



Series: Going Slightly Mad [2]
Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Complete, Denial of Feelings, Families of Choice, Growing Up, M/M, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:02:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami_yumi/pseuds/shinigami_yumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the title implies, a series of interludes between Sol and Ky from their Order days till after the events of Xrd Sign.</p><p>(Or Ky reminds Sol of Aria, Dizzy isn't blind enough to miss how Ky has always felt about Sol, and Sin gets Elphelt and Ramlethal to join their extended family of choice.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interludes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wintervioleteye (hawkguyed)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkguyed/gifts).



> For [wintervioleteye](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wintervioleteye/pseuds/wintervioleteye), who wrote me Valentine's Day fic. In true Japanese tradition, this is me responding accordingly on White Day with a gift of "greater value," so here's the first of my White Day fics... featuring a version of that guitar scene we were talking about. Happy White Day, Lacry.  
>  
> 
> This story makes a brief reference to a scene described in detail in [If Your God Were Real](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3388088), but you don't have to read that. (In fact, since I wrote that in 2006, you probably shouldn't, but I didn't want to leave you wondering about that reference)

Ky Kiske meanders towards the riverbank, lost in thought. They are back here in Paris for a meeting with some delegates from the United Nations, but the city looks nothing like the home he grew up in. Even with the constant rebuilding, Paris is a hollow shell of the city it was before the attack that took his family away — only the Seine looks unchanged.

He’d been so powerless back then.

Other knights nod at him in greeting as he passes, and he nods back. Sometimes, he wonders if it’s premature for him to be captain already, if he’s ready to make decisions that may cost two hundred men their lives, but no one had contested his appointment. In the end, he can only trust Commander Kliff’s judgement.

“Did you hear?” one of the men says to a small group in hushed excitement. “About Lyle and Rafa?”

Ky doesn’t know what they’re talking about, but “You shouldn’t be spreading gossip about your comrades, Bolek,” he chides mildly as he passes.

“Y—yes, Captain!”

The surrounding knights quickly return to what they were doing as he walks on, and eventually, the crowd thins. Eventually, he reaches a part of the riverbank that’s quite deserted, so he crests the edge to reach the slope down and freezes.

It’s Sol.

Recruited about a year after Ky himself had joined, Sol Badguy is a disgrace to their Order. Lazy, callous and insubordinate, he’d rubbed more than his fair share of knights the wrong way. The only thing he had going for him was power — try as he might, Ky has never won any of their spars and duels, and he’s seen the man out on the field. Sol is a force to be reckoned with. If the Gears could know fear despite Justice’s control, they _should_ be afraid of him.

He’s removed the uniform overcoat to lie on it and unfastened the undershirt to get more comfortable. Despite all his training, Ky doesn’t think he’ll ever be built as well as Sol — it’s a daunting amount of muscle mass to catch up on. With his eyes closed under the bulky headband, the older man appears to be taking a nap.

“What’s the matter, kid?” Sol drawls then, and Ky jumps slightly, startled. “See something you like?”

Blue eyes widen. “What? I was just wondering if I’d get any peace and quiet after all with you here.”

“Hmph. I like quiet, kid. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Well, you needn’t worry.” He removes his overcoat as well, spreads it on the grass and lies down on it, lets his gaze follow the currents of the Seine. It’s cleaner than he remembers, so in truth, even the river has changed. It’s a good change, of course, but he can’t help feeling wistful.

“Huh, never thought you’d be the kind to get tired of this crap.”

Ky glances sideways. For a moment, he contemplates not dignifying the remark with a response, but then reconsiders — he shouldn’t be rude. Perish the thought of sinking to the boor’s level.

“I don’t like war, of course, but bureaucracy is almost worse,” he sighs, closing his eyes.

The other lets out a soft bark of laughter. “Fancy that. We agree on something.”

Ky can’t help smiling wryly. “Did you see Lady Safiya? The one with the full retinue and the Persian on the silk cushion?” He buries his face in his hands. “I can’t believe she brought her cat all this way and even into the meeting room. When I left, she was feeding it out of a cocktail glass.”

“Hn. Everyone has their own coping mechanisms.”

“Heh.” Coping mechanisms, huh? Maybe that’s what this is. “Sometimes, I think it’d be nice to be a cat like that. Easy. Simple. Adored, fed and indulged for just lying around, snuggling people and looking pretty.” Human lives were so complicated in comparison. He shakes his head, closing his eyes once more. “You ever think so? Wonder what life would be like if you weren’t human?”

“...No.”

“No?” Ky chuckles wistfully. “I would have thought you’d want to be like a bird. Free.”

Sol mentally groans. “You don’t need to be a cat or a bird to have any of those things.”

“Ah, you’re missing the point.” Beside him, the boy sounds resigned, like it’s expected. “But it’s pointless to dwell on these fruitless thoughts anyway.”

Sol grunts in agreement, rolling over to face away.

Just another reminder he doesn’t need.

-+-+-+-+-+-

By the time he gets back to the airship, Ky is informed they don’t have enough fuel to make it to Paris. In addition, with the airspace crowded by their reinforcements, it would be best to go in a different direction. The nearest place they can resupply at is Zadar, a short distance to the northeast in Croatia, so that’s where they go.

When they reach the hangar in Zadar, he decides they’ll stay till tomorrow. He doesn’t have much of a company left, and everyone could use the break. He’s shooed away when he offers to help the crew resupply —the truth is he’d probably be more in the way than helpful— so he goes to shower instead and put his soiled uniform in the laundry.

Reports come in that the reinforcements decimated the remaining Gears, and Rome has been secured. He heaves a sigh of relief. They’d evacuated most of the citizens, so if nothing else, the men who gave their lives could take comfort in that. They’d volunteered, all of them, and their sacrifice saved so many civilian lives. He says a prayer for them — that’s all he can do now.

Suddenly, he needs to get away — from the reports, from the newly vacant rooms, from all of this.

He all but runs out of the airship.

The coastal air is cool on his skin, and he’s glad for the blue and white sweater he chose to wear over navy slacks. He doesn’t know this city, so he walks aimlessly. He sees some similarities to some of the other coastal cities the Order has stopped in as well as to some of the other Eastern European ones. The roads are paved with brick and stone in some places, the architecture at once familiar and new. The church he’s passing is open, so he enters. It’s old and beautiful, peaceful, and he says some prayers, lights some candles, collects himself — maybe it’s all the magic he used up earlier, but he still feels somewhat disoriented, like something’s off about the whole thing.

The sun is setting when he leaves the church, and it paints the darkening city in a soft golden hue. In the distance, it reflects orange off the sea, and it’s beautiful. He halts midstep, taking it in, then his ears pick up the strains of music in the distance. It’s a guitar playing, and he follows the sound, curious. Soon, he can hear laughter as well, and when he turns the corner onto a square, he sees them.

It’s a group of people gathered around a campfire of sorts, laughing and dancing in a loose circle. There’s a sizable pot suspended over the fire, and something smells delicious. Just then, a few people dance out of the way, and he squints to see better.

_Is that… Sol?_

That familiar figure sits crosslegged on the ground, one of two people strumming on a guitar, and Ky’s approaching before he’s even realized he’d started walking again. The other’s dressed casually too, in a red leather jacket over a black tank top and white jeans, but he’d recognize the hair and headband anywhere.

When he reaches the edge of the circle, one of the dancing ladies grabs his hand. “Join us!” she sings cheerfully. “Oh, you’re a sight for sore eyes, my boy.”

“Ah, I—I don’t really know how to dance,” he protests, blushing as she tugs him along.

“It’s easy! Watch.” She gathers her colourful skirt back, so he can see better. “Step back, step forward. Step back, step forward to the right, turn and step back. Now you try.”

“Uh…” He tries to follow along as she guides him, nudging him in the right direction with her hands, and after a few attempts, he thinks he gets it.

“There. Simple, no? Now we switch.”

“What?” he blinks, confused, but then she’s already nudging him along.

“Step back, step forward. Just follow along now. Step back, forward to the right, now forward turn,” she pushes him towards the next person in the circle, “forward turn and back.”

“Fast learner,” is all the man says before guiding him through the same steps, and it’s… fun.

None of them recognize him, he realizes; none of the passersby throughout the city did either, and it’s a nice change. Without the uniform, he’s just another blond teenage kid, and it’s… a relief. With all the posters they’ve put up of the Order, he can’t go anywhere in uniform without people crowding around to gawk or give thanks. The attention had been nice the first few hours; now it’s just exhausting.

By the time they’ve changed partners a few more times, he’s laughing in exhilaration. He doesn’t remember the last time he had this much fun. They switch partners again, and he just continues right into the dance until—

“So. It really _is_ you.”

He freezes, misses a step, but then Sol is nudging him back into the rhythm. He’d almost forgotten what led him here.

“Yes, I had to check if I was seeing things,” he replies as they turn.

Sol chuckles warmly, a rare sound, and the usual look of gruff annoyance has been replaced by something mellower. “Yeah, me too.”

They dance another set, but instead of passing him off to the next partner, Sol leads him out of the circle of dancers to where they’re passing out bowls of stew and chunks of bread.

“Is this really all right?” he asks as a bowl is pressed into his hands. He’s only joined them for a spot of dancing. It doesn’t seem right to be sharing their dinner.

But “Eat up, sonny!” calls the middle aged man doling out the bowls, so he follows Sol to a bit of empty space to sit and lets the older man tear him a chunk of bread.

Caught up in the dancing, he hadn’t noticed earlier, but he’s famished. Muttering a quiet prayer of thanks, he digs in. The bread is a bit dry, but the stew is delicious. It seems to have everything in it —bits of meat, vegetables, potatoes and beans— and he hasn’t had anything quite like it before. It’s rich and hearty, yet a bit tart with a hint of spice. He graciously accepts when they offer seconds and claps along with the others when the guitar is pressed into Sol’s hands again. He hadn’t known Sol played, and so well at that, but it’s one of the nicer discoveries he’s made of the man.

Sol plays a fairly upbeat tune, and it doesn’t take long for the tambourines to join in and the dancers to pick up the beat. It’s a different dance now — more swaying, less spinning and somewhat fancier footwork, and it’s like they all instinctively know what to do. While they’re distracted, Ky slips fifty World Dollars under his empty bowl. He gets the feeling that they’d be offended if he tried to give it to them directly, but it’s the least he can do for their generosity.

The song slows, and he glances sideways. Sol seems to be enjoying himself for a change, and the observation makes him smile. For all that the older man is a thorn in his side, he’d meant what he said earlier — when Sol is with him, he feels safe.

He yelps when Sol pulls him to his feet and hands the guitar to one of the others before leading him back into the circle of dancers. The others keep at the tune Sol started, and the older man is swaying him to the music before he can even protest that he doesn’t know the steps.

This close, he worries Sol can hear his heart racing even as he tries to follow along with little success, but then, suddenly, they’re not in the ring of dancers anymore, and Sol is leading him towards the coast with an arm around his shoulders.

“Are you heading back?” he asks softly. He’s not ready to go back to the airship, not ready to walk past all those rooms that had been occupied just earlier today.

“No.” Sol lets him go and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. “Just wanted a change of scenery. You don’t have to come along.”

Ky scowls as the other shakes a stick out and reaches for the lighter. “You should quit that. It’s terrible for your health.”

“No, scratch that,” Sol grouses around the cigarette as he lights it. “Don’t come along.”

Ky buries his face in his hands, takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his hair. The night was going so well, too. “Is it so bad,” he asks, “that I don’t want to see you with lung cancer someday?”

The other takes a long, deep drag. “I promise you won’t live long enough to worry about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snaps, angry now.

Sol shrugs. “Just so. We’re at war, boy. Any one of us could die t—”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads quietly. After today, that is the last thing he wants to be reminded of.

They’ve reached the coastline now, and the pavement below them is illuminated, bright beneath the starry night sky. As they walk, it changes colours, and the dancing lights are beautiful. Once, he thinks, there would have been many more people here. Over the sound of the waves now, he hears music, like pipes playing all around them — hauntingly familiar and yet nothing he’s ever heard before.

“This is amazing,” he breathes, stepping further into the circle of lights as they turn red and leaning down for a closer look with his hands clasped behind his back.

The glow tints his hair, and for a moment, he looks like a different person from a different time. Even now, Sol can’t help but chase that illusion.

So he keeps smoking as he steps forward into the lights, content to watch the other’s wonder in silence. She would have loved it as well, he thinks.

“I never got to thank you,” Ky says when they’re side by side again, and oddly, Sol finds he doesn’t mind the illusion shattered. “I don’t know that I would have made it out if you hadn’t come.”

“I’d have been there a lot sooner if you hadn’t locked me up,” he jibes, smirking.

“I wouldn’t have had to if your insubordination wasn’t getting out of hand,” Ky retorts tersely.

“The red tape is a waste of time.”

“We’re a huge organization. There’d be no efficiency without a system.”

Sol sighs, flicking the cigarette butt away. “Do you really want to do this now?”

Ky opens his mouth and closes it again. “No,” he says softly at last, looking up at Sol, and it’s as if the world holds its breath as they lean closer.

He buries his face in Sol’s shoulder and throws his arms around the other’s muscular form.

“Promise me we’ll survive this war,” he murmurs as strong arms wrap around him. Safe, he thinks, like no one else could ever make him feel, not even Commander Kliff. If Sol said it, he could have hope.

“Idiot. That’s not the kind of promise anyone can make. Not even me, nor you.”

No, but sometimes, the sentiment is enough. Sometimes, when it looks like the end, even an empty promise can be a source of strength.

“All right,” he says, stepping back with a grin. “If I manage to keep it, will you quit smoking?”

“Hmph.” Sol turns away. “Dream on, boy.”

-+-+-+-+-+-

Sol freezes at the tiny hand on his leg, glancing back at the little runt begging him not to hurt daddy because it would make mommy cry. His opponent’s sword clatters loudly to the floor of the abandoned church, and when he looks forward again, Ky has a hand over his mouth, and a teardrop has fallen from his uncovered blue eye.

Ugh, they look exactly alike.

He drops his hand, drives the Fireseal into the ground, and turns away with a sigh, scratching his head. “Even your son is a bigger man than you are.”

Behind him, Ky lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. Once, maybe he would have argued, but he’s not sixteen anymore. “Sol, I— I have a request.”

“Hn?” Sol is still looking thoughtfully at the child, as if analyzing this anomaly.

“My son, Sin… Can you take care of him for a while?” Given his meeting with the Conclave, it’s clear they’re not safe. Dizzy can protect herself, and it’s better for her to stay with him where he can hide her, but Sin… Sin is still too young for all this. Perhaps this is the only way.

“...what did you say?” Caught by surprise, Sol glances back, wondering if he’s hearing things.

“I know it’s unreasonable, but… still, I’m asking.”

Sol hesitates. The kid hesitantly looks back and forth between them, and it’s unclear whether or not he understands their conversation. “Is that the answer you came up with?” Sometimes, he wonders if Ky ever really grew up.

“No, but…” Ky closes his eyes, gathers his resolve. He will be King, yes, and change the world. “Can you give me a bit of time?” If the Conclave thinks they can manipulate him easily, this may work in his favour yet. “At least until I make a world where he and my wife can smile,” he answers without hesitation. And in the meantime, Sin will be safe… like only Sol could ever make him feel.

“Heh.” A world where Gears and humans can coexist in peace — a typically naive dream, quintessentially Ky Kiske. But maybe that is for the best. Sol smiles, feral, fearless. “Then I take it you won’t have any complaints on what kind of man he becomes, right?”

Ky chuckles wryly, looking at his son. “You’re about to take him off to God knows where. What could I do about it?” Perhaps that is for the best too — Sin has his mother’s heart; maybe it is better if he doesn’t pick up his father’s weaknesses.

“Fine,” Sol grunts, regretting everything. “I’ll do it.”

There’s a long pause, probably Ky recovering from shock, before a slightly choked, “Thank you.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” he growls. He still thinks the boy is a damnable idiot. Dizzy is supposed to be dead. That’s why they sent her to live with Johnny. But no, he finds her, he shags her, he has a kid with her, and now he’s making it Sol’s problem.

Behind him, the other picks up and resheathes the Thunderseal. “I understand.”

“Hmph,” even after all these years, “still such a pain in the ass.” He searches his pockets for the pack of cigarettes he knows is there.

Ky turns to face his wife where she’s standing at the door, having just arrived with Sin. “Dizzy, would you… take Sin and get his things ready?” He smiles sadly. He’d carry Sin to her, but the boy wouldn’t let him. “We won’t be seeing him for some time, after all.”

“O—of course.” She hurries over and picks their son up. Bless her soul, she doesn’t ask if he’ll come along. “Sin~ Aren’t you excited? You’re going on a long vacation with Uncle Sol,” she coos, smiling to put on a brave front as she carries the boy away.

“But he’s scary!” Sin protests, clinging to her. “I want to stay with mommy!”

“Oh, he just _looks_ scary. Uncle Sol is really nice!”

Sol grimaces, and Ky clamps a hand over his mouth to stifle a snort as their voices fade into the distance.

“Anyway, didn’t you always want to go out and see the world? Uncle Sol goes _everywhere._ It’ll be fun!” is the last thing they hear before mother and son are too far away.

“I’m sorry,” Ky says quietly as Sol shakes a cigarette out, having finally gotten the slightly squashed pack out of his jeans pocket. “Again, I know I have no right to burden you with such an unreasonable request, but…” He looks up at the old stained glass window. “Even if there were someone else I could trust, who else could raise a half-Gear child?”

Behind him, there is a pause before he hears the lighter flick and the cigarette catching flame. Sol takes a deep drag and exhales. “How long have you known?”

Ky turns back to face him. “Do you remember the spaceship incident? When you shot that Gear out of the sky? I’ve suspected since the time we sealed Justice away — I heard what she said, but seeing it, sensing it for myself… I could no longer doubt.”

“And you did nothing?” He meets that familiar blue gaze, inhaling and exhaling another puff of smoke, letting the familiar burn wash over him.

The other steps closer, challenging. “Should I have?”

“Hmph, I thought you were still pissed about this sword. And didn’t you hate Gears until you shagged one recently?”

Ky frowns disapprovingly at the crass language, but only drops his gaze to the floor. “It… was never about the sword, Sol.”

He’s had nine years to come to terms with this, to sort out the jumbled mess of feelings he’d had as a traumatized fifteen-year-old.

“I hated you for leaving… just as I’d finally admitted to myself that I needed you.”

Realizing what that sounded like, he quickly adds, “Don’t misunderstand; I love my wife and son very much.” Why else would he be in this predicament? “But sometimes, when I’m completely honest with myself, I wonder if I kept coming back just to prove something, to find the answer I always knew was there.” He turns away once more, walking towards the altar.

“I protected Solaria because she was innocent, but I… wanted to see for myself the line between my sense of justice and my personal feelings. Even now, I don’t know if I like what I found.” He sighs as he looks back, smiling wistfully. “Being with Dizzy only drove home the fact that I’d always l—”

“Shut up.”

Ky takes a deep breath. “You’re right.” It’s too late now, after all — he’s already made his choices. “But if I’d asked in 2—mmph.”

Sol’s lips are on his now, rough, and he’s kissing back, closing his eyes to savour it before his mind has even caught up to the reality. Once, the aftertaste of tobacco would have bothered him; now, it hardly seems to matter.

It is everything he’s ever wanted, and it hurts like an old wound that never truly healed.

Maybe things could have ended this way ten years ago in that forest, but he’d had such a one-sided view of the world then. Looking back now, it all seems so silly, and everything he has done since has only seemed the greater sin.

He clings to strong shoulders and presses his forehead to that bulky headband as they part, engraving it into his memory. “Take care of my son, Sol,” he says again, “like you would your own,” and tries not to think about dropping the Y.

“Heh.” Sol steps back, smirking. “Let’s see if you regret those words in a few years.”

-+-+-+-+-+-

Ky is removing the crown and lifting the mantle from his shoulders when he senses it, that familiar aura, even as he catches a whiff of tobacco smoke on the breeze blowing in from the balcony. Unpinning the large brooch, he shrugs out of the robe and hangs both robe and mantle on their respective hangers. He leaves the crown, brooch and gloves on the table.

“I thought you left,” he opens casually, going to the sliding door he left half ajar.

It feels more natural this way — the sleeveless undershirt and white breeches were part of the Holy Order’s uniform, and he kept them. They’re comfortable, or perhaps he’s just so used to wearing them after all this time, and they look good under the robes, admittedly.

Sol slides off his perch on the balcony railing, blowing out a puff of smoke. “Still got a brat to pick up, remember? Unless he’s staying home for good.”

Ky smiles, leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed. “Well, if you ditch that cigarette, you can come in.” He’s in a good mood for the first time in a long while — with Dr. Paradigm’s help, things are finally looking up for him, for them all.

The other rolls his eyes, but doesn’t move as he takes another drag. “A world where humans and Gears coexist… Gotta say I doubted you could do it.”

“I don’t blame you. I doubted myself for a long time too.” He takes a deep breath and stretches as he looks out at his kingdom, then turns to Sol once more. “I never got to thank you.”

Out here, beneath the starry night sky, with the sea in the distance, it feels just like another night, so long ago now. Perhaps, he thinks ruefully, if things had ended differently that night…

“I’ll just take my bounty payment if you don’t mind.”

Ky scoffs. “Technically, you _are_ the bounty.”

“So what?” Sol shrugs. “Pretend the kid turned me in.”

Ky presses his palm to his brow. _Dear Lord, this man…_ “I feel like I’m paying alimony.”

The words are out of his mouth before he realizes, and heat rises in his cheeks in mortification, but Sol only laughs like he hasn’t heard in over a decade now.

“I imagine you’ve had your fair share of would-be assassins come in this way?”

“Heh.” Trust Sol to dampen his good spirits. “No, actually. I imagine I’ve yet to outlive my usefulness.”

This seems to pique Sol’s interest, for he finally flicks the cigarette over the ledge. Ky frowns at the litter, but only leads the older man inside.

“Tea?” he offers as Sol slides the door shut.

“Is it too much to ask for you to have beer?” the other drawls and raises an eyebrow when he pulls a bottle out of a small fridge.

He grabs a teacup, saucer and infuser for himself and puts the kettle on to boil. “I’d go crazy if I had to call someone every time I wanted a cup of tea,” he explains instead — safer ground. He scoops some tea leaves out of a jar into the infuser and joins Sol at the table. The other has already popped the cap on his beer and is drinking out of the bottle.

Sol downs a third of his beer before setting the bottle down on the table. “So. What’s your part in all this?”

His instinctual response is to retort that he has no part in the Conclave’s machinations, but it’s better to start from the beginning, so instead he says, “They have eyes and ears everywhere.”

The Gear closes his eyes, reaches out with his enhanced senses. “Not in here.”

Ky laughs. “I hope not. I tried to make sure of that.” The kettle clicks off as the water boils, and Ky reaches for it to pour some hot water over the infuser in his cup. The scent of peppermint is soothing, and he inhales deeply of it. “I’d just returned from meeting with them the day you took Sin.” He recognizes the look Sol gives him as, “And you didn’t think to mention?” but he only continues, “They made it clear they wanted a puppet king they could manipulate. To what end, I am only now starting to glimpse. I believe they are planning something big on the scale that involves the Backyard you have all been talking about. It is the logical next step, given the power they already have, but we don’t have enough information to guess what that is. Still, I can’t imagine it will be anything good.”

“A merciless apocalypse…” Sol muses, lost in thought, as Ky removes the infuser, sets it down on the saucer and takes a sip of tea.

“Do you know something?”

There’s a pause before, “No. As you said, not enough information.”

“You said That Man is involved, the Gear Maker… and Dr. Paradigm called you Frederick.”

The other remains silent, but the guarded tension is a warning Ky would have ignored only six years ago.

He smiles wryly and shakes his head. “No, that’s not important. But if there’s something only you would know… Well.” He finishes his cup of tea, rising. “We can only continue to investigate in our own way. This must all be connected somehow. Let us compare notes again sometime.”

Sol rises as well. “Don’t be so careless next time.”

Ky laughs, self-deprecating. In recent years, he feels that way a lot. “I’ll be careful.” He walks back towards the balcony, bare feet silent on the slate-coloured carpet, Sol following close behind. “It’s not safe yet for Sin to remain here.”

“Oh, the kid’s carrying the luggage for sure,” Sol replies gruffly, reaching for the door, and Ky’s reaching out to stop him before he can think better of it. “Hn? What’s the matter now?”

Ky lets go, retracts his hand — he doesn’t have an answer. He keeps hearing that time heals all wounds, but this never hurts any less. “No,” he whispers, stepping back and turning away. “Forget it.”

To his surprise, he’s pulled back against a taller form. He bites his lip and closes his eyes, exhaling shakily as he leans into the embrace. On days like these, he’s so angry with himself.

“Once,” Sol murmurs into his ear, “you would have protested that this is wrong, immoral.”

He can only let out a sardonic laugh. “And everything I thought was right only caused so much suffering.”

He laces their fingers, and Sol tightens the embrace. “You’re not a child anymore, Ky.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he laughs through the pain. “You’re right. A king doesn’t have the right to be selfish.”

The other scoffs, letting go. “That’s not what I meant. But you need to come up with a different answer.”

When Ky turns, the Gear is already gone, but it’s not like he has the strength to face Sol now anyway. _A different answer…_ he perpends as he slides the glass door shut. Well, with the Conclave and That Man’s scheming, this is hardly the time to be worrying about such things anyway.

-+-+-+-+-+-

Standing on a grassy hill surrounded by forest, Ky watches Sin talking to the Valentines from a short distance away. They managed to rescue Elphelt, but it remains to be seen if she and Ramlethal are truly free from their “Mother’s” influence. They can only rely on Dr. Paradigm to look into that now and hopefully discover some clues as to the nature of this “Mother” they speak of.

“It’s a little surprising how much he’s grown, isn’t it?” Dizzy says softly, coming to stand beside him. “Even for me who experienced the same…”

“Yes.” He wraps an arm around her to hold her close, and she leans into him. Finally, Dizzy and Sin won’t have to hide. They can live openly together as a family in Illyria now. That thought alone is worth every struggle, every hardship, every fight. “Three years seem at once so long and so brief.”

“Mm. I was talking to Ram on the way here.” His wife rests her head on his shoulder, never looking away from their son. “She was saying things like— there isn’t always a right answer and, even if there is, sometimes it’s not the best answer because everyone is unique. She said she learned it from Sin. It made me… very happy.”

Ky smiles fondly. “Yeah…” It’s a surprisingly mature thought, and he can’t help but feel proud. Truly, he is indebted to Sol.

Suddenly, at the edge of his senses, he picks up on movement, and he turns to see the man walking off into the forest alone.

He clenches his free hand.

It’s funny — after all this time, he should be used to this, but it’s not any easier than when he was fifteen. All the victories, all the achievements, and he’s still so powerless.

“Ky?”

He jumps a bit, startled, and schools his face into a smile before turning back to his wife. “Hm?”

“Aren’t you going after him?”

His breath hitches in his throat. “Dizzy?” His wife may be innocent —she, too, is still so young, after all— but she’s sometimes extraordinarily perceptive. He doesn’t know what to say.

She chuckles, taking his hands. “It’s just as Ram says. And if you were the type to stop because it’s never been done or it can’t be defined, none of us would be standing here today.”

“You’re… right,” he whispers at last, pulling her into a tight hug, and in this instant, Ky feels truly, undeservingly blessed. “Thank you.”

“Mm.” She steps back with a smile. “You should hurry.”

He nods and turns to run after Sol. It’s not far to catch up, but as usual, the other seems intent on ignoring him, even after everything he’d said about coming home. Maybe precisely because. “Sol, wait.”

He catches the other by the elbow, and Sol turns, an annoyed frown on his face.

“Hn? What bothersome new problem do you have for me this time?”

Ky huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t let anything be taken from you anymore?” He steps closer, looking down to where he hasn’t let go. “I like to think being king gave me a new perspective, but in the end, I’m still so blind.”

“...ha?”

“A different answer.” He looks up to meet mismatched eyes. Because Sol said it, he could have hope. “It was right in front of me the whole time.”

Sol opens his mouth to reply, but then—

“OOOOOLD MAAAAAN!!!” Sin calls loudly from a distance, running over with the others.

“Yeeesh, quiet down already,” the older man growls, grimacing as he scratches his head.

“Hey, Mom? Old man? Do you think El and Ram can stay with us?” Sin looks imploringly at Sol and Dizzy, then turns to Ky, hopeful. “Dad?” It still makes Ky’s chest clench a little to hear it.

“I don’t see why not.” That was always the plan anyway, for them to stay close to Dr. Paradigm.

“I think that’s wonderful,” Dizzy replies cheerfully, taking his hand, and he laces their fingers.

Sol sighs, longsuffering, as he drives the Junkyard Dog into the ground and searches his pockets for a cigarette. “Looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.”

“YEAH!!!” Sin pumps his fist in the air. “C’mon then! Let’s go home!” he cheers, leading the way.

And Ky doesn’t think he’s ever been happier.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks go out to...  
>  **Wintervioleteye** for the beta and V-Day gift  
>  **Meinarch** for the second opinion  
>  **Ishiwatari Daisuke** for getting me back into this fandom with Xrd Sign. *shakes fist* Damn you!!! ♥
> 
>  **You** for reading. I hope you enjoyed my first Guilty Gear story in close to a decade.  
>  I appreciate any and all feedback, so please leave some~ Thanks again.


End file.
